and now for something a little different today
Disclaimer: In spite of it’s annoying alarm clock quality I am a great admirer of Corvus who never forgets and who often has a wicked sense of humour and vindication.
“It was all the fault of Phoebus’ wife you know,” complained the crow loudly as he watched the sun chariot rise into view. “Her infidelity was my downfall. After all, I was not always as you see me now. At one time my feathers were as white as the first snowfall. They shimmered like starlight and I could sing more beautifully than a wren.” A winter wren sitting on a lacy tree branch warbled a skeptical dissent and took flight, having heard this story many times before. Unruffled the crow continued, “I merely reported what I had seen to the cuckolded husband and this was how he repaid me!”
“You really are a very cheeky fellow and shame on you for telling tales on others!” exclaimed the disapproving blackbird who flew off with the flock to find some quiet fold in dawn’s radiant robes. The crow cringed with chagrin but could not help himself and so whether anyone would listen or not, the unceasing, protesting, yawp continued forth on the woodland’s frosty breath and through the open mouth of morning.
( my own interpretation of a story from Ovid’s Metamorphoses retold in Chaucer’s Canterbury tales. For his tattle the crow was given black feather and an unmelodious voice)
Another true story
Neighbours of mine had a little Norfolk Terrier cross who loved to chase crows, and yapped loudly while doing so. The husband and wife purchased a little shop in the village and one day they left the dog tied up outside while they were renovating. “Spike” began to bark and yip frantically. When they went outside to investigate they observed a “murder” of raucous crows who were dropping twigs and sticks on the helpless victim and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.